


I thought of angels choking on their halos

by wtfrenchtoast



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bucky has good intentions, Eavesdropping, F/M, First Time, First Time Blow Jobs, M/M, PWP, Period-Typical Homophobia, Pining, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Prostitution, Sex Work, Threesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-30
Updated: 2015-12-31
Packaged: 2018-04-18 00:33:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4685474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wtfrenchtoast/pseuds/wtfrenchtoast
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Steve whirled around his eyes were blazing. "Bucky," he hissed, ears already burning scarlet, "this better be some kinda joke, because if you actually invited this-this nice, um, young lady to...to-"</p><p>"Ssssshh!" Bucky glared sternly at Steve's outraged face, which only served to incense him further. "She'll hear you." </p><p>His pale blue eyes nearly bulged out of his head. "Hear me? Hear me? That's what you're worried about? You hire a-a working girl, bring her into our apartment behind my back for God knows what, and you're worried that she's gonna hear me?!"</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I know I'm bad news

When Steve whirled around his eyes were blazing. "Bucky," he hissed, ears already burning scarlet, "this better be some kinda joke, because if you actually invited this-this nice, um, young lady to...to-"

 

"Ssssshh!" Bucky glared sternly at Steve's outraged face, which only served to incense him further. "She'll hear you."

 

His pale blue eyes nearly bulged out of his head. "Hear me? Hear me? That's what you're worried about? You hire a-a working girl, bring her into our apartment behind my back for God knows what, and you're worried that she's gonna hear _me?!_ "

 

Bucky frowned. "Who said anything about hiring? Never said nothing about money, Stevie." At his withering look Bucky shrugged. "Alright, fine. If it makes you feel better she didn't charge me full price. I told her it was your first time."

 

The fire in Steve's eyes could melt steel. "Send her home. Now."

 

With an eye roll and giddy smile Bucky threw an arm around Steve's shoulders. "Is that any way to accept a gift? Your ma taught you better than that. If she were 'round these days she'd be shocked and appalled at those manners."

 

"Oh, that's rich-"

 

"Yep. That's the point. Now get in there and let her show you a good time, you little shit. And I don't ever say I never gave you nothing." He shoved Steve, whose arms flailed about like a ruffled chicken as he blubbered in protest, through the doorway of their tiny apartment. It was nearly a clean getaway, too. Except when a skinny arm shot through the rapidly-narrowing crack and clamped down on his lapels.

 

"Oh, no you don’t,” Steve growled, low and dangerous. “Get your ass in here.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

It had started as a joke, like most of the bullshit conversations they had when they’d tossed back a few whiskeys and didn’t care to censor themselves. Steve’s twenty-first birthday was less than a month away. It hadn’t escaped Bucky’s notice that Steve had been especially solemn the last few weeks; morose, even.

 

They were sitting on the fire escape, enjoying the late-spring sunset, when Bucky decided to take the bull by the horns. “Don’t know what’s been eatin’ at you lately, pal, but I’m sure it’s nothing that a good tumble wouldn’t fix,” Bucky said confidently, taking a long drag off his cigarette.

 

Steve snorted. “I’ll take your word for it,” he replied dryly.

 

Bucky paused, filter nearly at his lips, when it dawned on him. “You - really? Not that I’ve spent too much time thinking on it, don’t go gettin’ no ideas, but I figured, y’know. Maybe when I was out some night or somethin’, or when you went to visit your aunt in Albany that one time...oh, hell, I don’t know. Just thought it would have happened by now.” He regretted the words the second they were out of his mouth, but too late.

 

“Well, you thought wrong,” Steve agreed quietly. “It’s fine, Buck, really. I’m not about to go jumpin’ into bed with some dame just to say I have. If that’s all I wanted I coulda gone a few blocks over on payday and been done with it.”

 

Bucky studied his best friend’s profile for several long moments, searching for whatever it was that women found so undesirable. Kid had a decent mug, nothing wrong there. It wasn’t until his eyes drifted lower, over slender shoulders and a narrow chest, that he finally allowed himself to see. He didn’t agree with it, didn’t understand, per se, nobody knew Steve like he did, because then they’d know what they were missing out on. But, he grudgingly admitted to himself, most girls Bucky’d encountered liked looking up into his eyes, liked the sharp contrast between his well-defined musculature and their soft, gentle curves.

 

Weren’t there dames out there who liked ‘em shorter, or skinnier, though? Same as his work buddies, how some of ‘em liked blondes, or girls with a little more on top, or on bottom...

 

“It’s your confidence.” The words just sort of fell out. “You don’t believe you’re worth payin’ attention to, so they don’t. Can’t believe I didn’t see it sooner. Stevie-”

 

He glanced up to notice Steve eyeing him warily. “It’s fine,” he repeated insistently. “I know that look on your face, and I’m telling you right now, no schemes. Promise me. I’ve had enough double dates to last me a lifetime, and anyway, that ain’t what’s been botherin’ me. So let it go.”

 

Bucky sighed. The mood was darkening fast, so he tried for some levity. “Fine, suit yourself. All I’m saying is that maybe if you got it out of the way, y’know, took the mystery out of it-”

 

“I’m goin’ inside.” And just like that, it was over.

 

Except it wasn’t. The wheels turning in Bucky’s mind were already in motion. As he lay awake that night, the sounds of Brooklyn summer trickling through their open window, Bucky made a decision.

 

* * *

  


"Relax. All you gotta do is sit back, let her take the lead, and when it's over you'll be all primed and ready for that special someone. Someday." It was a losing battle, but by God Bucky wasn't about to back out now.

 

Steve glanced hesitantly at the dolled-up young lady perched prettily on their worn-out couch. She had a small, coy smile on her carefully painted lips, but both of them could tell she was getting impatient. "Time's of the essence, gentlemen." In other words, she'd already been paid, and there was no return policy.

 

Bucky put on his best panty-dropper grin and clapped one strong hand on Steve's bony shoulder. "My apologies, ma'am. I'd like to introduce my friend Steven."

 

"Ma'am," Steve choked stiffly.

 

"Stevie here, he's the best fella I know. A little shy with the ladies, is all."

 

She unfolded her long, slender legs from beneath her and stood. The way she stalked across their tiny living room reminded Bucky of a cat with its sights set on an unsuspecting mouse. "Well, the last thing I want is for you to be uncomfortable, sugar. So how about we make a deal, you and me? I'll show you what I do best, and if you don't like it you just say so. How does that sound?" Her voice was like warm molasses, and Steve couldn't help but be lured in.

 

"Uh,” he managed to stammer. One perfectly manicured eyebrow lifted expectantly.

 

Bucky’s hand was still clamped tightly down on his shoulder, a firm reminder that this joint venture was meant well, albeit wildly unorthodox.

 

The next words out of his mouth hardly felt real. “Ma’am, I...I’d be happy to oblige. What do you...what should I do?”

 

“That’s the spirit,” Bucky said jovially, but Steve barely heard him over the blood pounding in his ears.

 

Her cherry-red lips broke open into a brilliant smile. “Oh, look at you. Just adorable.” Soft hands cupped his narrow cheeks. “Have a seat, Steven.” She swept her hand towards the worn sofa like it was the throne of England, and Steve obediently settled himself into the thin cushions, hands splayed over his knees.

 

Bucky, smirking like the cat that ate the canary, plunked down into their easy chair. Ready for the show, it seemed. Steve would never, ever forgive him, he decided then and there.

 

“You got a-a name, Miss? I mean, not your real name, if you don’t want-”

 

“Call me Rosie.”

 

And then it began. The nearly-transparent negligee she wore fell to the floor silently, and Steve’s breath caught in his throat. Her choice of garments suited the occasion as well as it could, given the circumstances - filmy white stockings that attached to a lacy white garter belt, with matching brassiere and knickers. Like a bride on her wedding night. The irony made his ears burn.

 

She settled one knee on either side of Steve’s thighs, straddling him. Red lacquered nails trailed along the length of his skinny forearm. "It's alright, baby," she cooed. "Let me make this good for you."

 

Steve swallowed hard, but nodded anyway. Across the small room, Bucky’s smirk had faded slightly. Steve glanced quickly over at him. Was he just going to sit there and...and watch? Like it was some back-alley peep show-

 

His thoughts were cut abruptly short when Rosie’s lips landed on his, tentatively at first and growing in passion. Pillow-soft but assertive, she kissed him like she was leading a battle charge and he was just along for the ride. Beneath her, heat pooled deliciously in his groin and unknowingly he thrust his hips upward, chasing after this new and addictive sensation. It had taken no time at all for him to become stiff and aching under his slacks.

 

A pleased noise hummed against his lips. “Knew you'd like that. And as much as I'd love to spend all evening necking, sugar, you got places to go-" she reached one graceful arm behind her and just like that, the delicate brassiere slid down her body and Jesus Mary and Joseph there were tits in his face right there dear God "-and people to see, am I right?"

 

Rosie took his hands in hers, placing them directly where the cups of her bra had been. He felt her nipples firm between his fingers. “That’s it,” she encouraged warmly. “Like that. Rub your fingers over-yes, good boy.” Her back arched with pleasure, pushing her breasts further into his waiting palms.

 

As she dipped backward, Bucky’s face glimpsed over her shoulder. Steve was struck by the slackened expression on his best friend’s face, the way his eyes had grown dark and stormy. Dangerous. He’s hard, Steve noticed, before guiltily ripping his gaze away.

 

Of course he's hard, he chided himself. Beautiful topless dame sitting less than a few feet away, ready and willing to please in any way imaginable...the Pope himself wouldn’t be able to stop himself from popping one.

 

Rosie’s long fingers toyed with the buttons of Steve’s shirt, easily unhooking each one. She worked her way down to his belt and a few moments later that was wide open, too, and she was pulling him out of his drawers. His mouth worked uselessly, he’d have been humiliated if he wasn’t so turned on.

 

Her eyes lit up when they fell on his full length, impressive given his slight build, and the considerable thickness.

 

"Oh, sweetie. I don't say this often, but believe me when I tell you this will truly be my pleasure." The way her fingers wrapped around him, smooth as spun silk, sucked the breath right from his lungs. When her hand slid up to the tip and back down again, squeezing gently along the way, his eyes nearly bugged out of his head.

 

"That feel nice?" She lifted herself off of him then, and stepped backwards onto the worn hardwood. “We’re just getting started.” Dropping to her knees, she tugged his pants down to his ankles and leaned over him, nestling his cock in the valley between her lush breasts.

 

His eyes suddenly met Bucky's. His best friend was sitting ramrod-straight in their shabby easy chair, hands gripping the armrests so tightly Steve half expected them to snap off. His cheeks were flushed and his grey eyes seemed to burn themselves into his.

 

Tiny licks of fire began to flicker in Steve's belly. The dame's velvety hand felt like heaven on his virgin cock, that much he could admit to himself. But what truly sent his blood surging through his body was the knowledge that Bucky was there. In the same room, a mere five feet away while his dick was swollen and throbbing and exposed.

 

Rosie chose that exact moment to open her ruby lips and swallow Steve down in one go. The cry that ripped from his throat is nowhere near human but he hasn’t the presence of mind to care. “Holy-”

 

And down she went again, searing hot and slick inside the confines of her pretty mouth as Steve himself choked on his own words. He was no shrinking violet; certainly aware that girls sometimes did this for guys. He'd even had the awkward experience of accidentally interrupting a date of Bucky's where his friend had been the recipient of such a gesture. It looked pleasurable enough from a third-party standpoint, but Christ, the things that a dame’s tongue could do down there…

 

He moaned, too-loud and embarrassingly high.

 

Across the room, Bucky distractedly popped a button on his collar, tugging the fabric down.

 

Steve, dazed and near-delirious with pleasure, found his eyes drawn to the curve of his best friend’s lips. Crimson and shapely, plump enough to draw the envy of any dame. As the silky slide of Rosie’s ministrations caressed his length, those lips drew his gaze like a siren call. A wild rush of lust, broiling and fierce, licked up his spine and God in heaven he couldn’t stop the image from rising up to meet him, for Bucky to be the one kneeling between his feet-

 

A clink and the telltale sound of a zipper broke through the heavy silence. As if he’d been burned, Steve glassy eyes darted away in guilt, only to be drawn back when he noticed Bucky’s hips rising from the worn cushion. His pants and drawers were halfway down his thighs, strong hand wrapped around the base of his cock.

 

His cock. Steve made no pretense of it now, he stared and stared as Bucky stroked himself purposefully.

 

Rosie pulled off of him with a pop, hand working as she grinned coyly up at him. “You think you’re ready for the main event?”

 

Shell-shocked, Steve could only nod dumbly. Words had fled him when his best friend had whipped himself out less than a stone’s throw away to jerk off at the sight of his first blowjob.

 

Rosie stood gracefully, quite a feat after spending a good ten minutes on her knees. She reached across Steve where her coat was tossed over the arm of the sofa, and removes something small from her pocket. Before Steve can ask, she’s bent at the waist over his lap, wet heat sliding over his dick as she took him back into her mouth.

 

When she surfaced, he’s startled to see a rubber cleanly and precisely stretched around himself. “Wow,” he muttered before he can think better of it.

 

Her laugh was clear as a bell. She lifted her foot to rest next to Steve’s thigh, opening herself to him completely. He could see where she was wet and glistening, and had to remember to breathe when she took his bony hand and placed it at her entrance.

 

With a shaky breath, he let her guide him inside her, one finger, then another, as deep as they could go. Her hips rose and fell gently, then he felt his fingers slip out and her hand tugged them forward to a small nub of flesh tucked within her folds. He rubbed, experimentally, and was rewarded with a sweet, wanton moan.

 

“That’s it, sweetheart,” she crooned. “You wanna please a lady, you just remember that little sweet spot.”

 

"Yes, ma'am," he choked, eyes pinned to the folds of her pussy, spread wide between his fingertips.

 

Bucky snorted ungracefully. "She ain't teaching you how to darn socks, Steve."

 

Rosie grinned. "He's polite," she countered, playfully defensive. "Nothing wrong with that. Although," and then she was rising up on her knees, one slim hand gripping him and lining his tip with her entrance, "maybe not for long."

 

She dropped her hips slowly, so slowly, and inch by inch Steve’s cock disappeared inside her. "Oh, Jesus," he groaned. Even through the rubber he couldn't imagine how it was possible, that she could be so fucking tight. And warm, so warm he truly thought he'd burn alive from the inside -

 

And then. Over her shoulder, Bucky’s eyes were wide and stricken. Steve imagined he could hear his heart hammering in his ears, blood racing like a freight train.

 

“That’s good,” she moaned when all of Steve was buried inside her, down to the hilt. “You alright?” He could only nod in reply.

 

Her hips began to roll forward, slowly at first. He could feel every inch of himself enveloped snugly within her, so sweetly he was dizzy with it. So this is what it’s like, what all the fuss was about. Tentatively he ghosted his fingers along the delicate frame of her ribs. Her breasts pushed forward with each gentle wave, begging to be attended to. His tongue poked through for an experimental lick, to which he was rewarded with a high-pitched keen. Carefully she began lifting her hips higher just to drop back down on Steve's skinny hips, fucking herself on him, tiny gasps and moans escaping her parted lips.

 

Steve was jerked back to reality when she lifted herself off in one smooth motion and whirled around, the slender plane of her back now inches from his face. She dropped herself back onto him swiftly. He nearly choked on his own tongue at the raw sensation, head dropping back onto the cushion.

 

The floorboards creaked with a piercing whine, and the next thing Steve knew he was staring into the endless depths of Bucky’s eyes as he glowered down from above. He froze.

 

“You don’t mind sharing, do you?” She winked and before he could even think to reply her cherry-red lips were closed around the tip of Bucky’s cock. A low, pained groan fell from Bucky’s mouth, slack with pleasure. Rosie worked him expertly, all the while never missing a beat as she rode Steve like a prized racehorse.

 

Steve’s brain, meanwhile, was reeling - he could’ve laughed aloud when he realized he didn’t know if she’d meant her, or...Bucky. Jesus. Is it right for a guy, even his best guy, to be getting his rocks off so close to where he was doing the same? Dame or no? Add it to the list, he supposed, of things he’d have to confess come Sunday morning.

 

Then, Steve made a mistake.

 

Bucky had his hands entwined through Rosie’s silky curls, caressing her feverishly as her head bobbed back and forth. Eyes at half mast, lips parted, debauched and beautiful and it hit Steve like a gut punch when he met Bucky’s gaze -

 

Bucky was staring. At Steve. Brazen and unforgiving, he was pinned down with the weight of that gaze.

 

That was all it took to send Steve rushing headlong over the edge. Pleasure raced through his veins and exploded behind his eyes. He grabbed Rosie’s hips tightly and thrust himself upward into her wet heat, crying out brokenly (oh God oh fuck fuck yeah oh God _Bucky)_ as he pulsed inside her.

 

Somewhere above him, he heard an anguished gasp and Rosie stilled atop him. He cracked open one eye just in time to catch her throat working furiously, nose pressed nearly to the dark nest of curls at the base of Bucky’s cock. Steve didn’t have any more in him, he was sure of that, but watching his best friend’s exquisite features twist in orgasm could’ve set him off again.

 

As the sweat cooled and their senses returned to them, Rosie extricated herself from the pair with cool efficiency. She was dressed and standing patiently by the door while Bucky could only manage to drop himself into a bundle of limbs on the couch. Steve clumsily pulled up his trousers, blushing like a tomato, and buttoned his shirt with one hand as he went to see her out.

 

“Interesting name, Bucky,” she mused, not unkindly, as she stepped into the hallway. “How’d you get that from James?”

 

His head was spinning. Dumbly, Steve stopped. “What?”

 

“He told me his name was James. It’s no trouble, I just didn’t see the connection between that and Bucky.”  

 

His brow furrowed. “Then how’d you-” and then his stomach dropped.

 

(oh God _Bucky_ )

 

She must have seen the panic on his face, because she stepped forward and grabbed his arm firmly. “Stop that.” Her smile was rueful and knowing. “You think I’m in a position at all to judge anyone? Glass house, Mister Steven.” She patted his arm. “Love is love, when all’s said and done.”

 

Still stunned, Steve scratched his head, cheeks reddening. “I-I don’t know what to say.”

 

“If you’re worried about discretion, rest assured that my lips are sealed.” She smirked.

 

“Thank you.”

 

She rose up on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek briskly. “You behave yourself now, sweetheart. And take care of that boy of yours.”

 

Steve blinked, taken aback at how quickly she could revert from an insatiable sexpot to a clucking mother hen in the span of less than a minute. No wonder he'd never had luck with women; he understood them as well as he could speak Greek. "Yes, ma'am," he managed to reply.

 

When the heavy oak door thudded closed, Steve gave himself two precious heartbeats in which to gather his thoughts. In hindsight, he could pinpoint the moments where the path of his life had irrevocably changed, and the direction he was headed took a completely different turn. Moments where he knew there was no going back.

 

All of them had involved Bucky.

 

This one would, too. Possibly for the last time.

 

Steve squared his shoulders and straightened his spine before crossing into their tiny living room. His stomach clawed at him.

 

Bucky lay sprawled across the couch, staring blankly at the cracked plaster ceiling. He didn’t look up as Steve approached.

 

Steve found his voice. “We need to talk.”

  



	2. I saved it all for you

_Summer 1940_

_How he managed to snag the last available seat on the car he didn't know, but he was immensely grateful nonetheless. His back ached something fierce, the carpal tunnel in his right hand was acting up again (probably the shit weather to blame) and the dull roar in his head was a clear sign of a migraine to come. Bussing tables shouldn't have been as taxing as it was - and for a normal, able-bodied fellow? Shoulda been cake._

_For Steve, it was like hauling cinder blocks uphill ten miles in a snowstorm._

_Much as it killed him to admit defeat, he decided he would call the restaurant tomorrow and resign. One more eight-hour shift and he'd be liable to put himself on bed rest for the rest of the month._

_Cradling his right arm, he settled into the worn fabric of the bench seat, exhausted. It was a good thirty minutes' ride to his stop. Wouldn't hurt anybody to close his eyes for a bit..._

_Nothing he'd felt, ever, it seemed, felt quite as good as resting his throbbing forehead against the cool windowpane. Sweet relief. Steve's eyelids fluttered lower and lower, his long lashes brushing his cheek-_

_"Katherine!"_

_Jesus, Mary and Joseph. Steve grit his teeth as the seat in front of him squeaked shrilly with the weight of two passengers, chirping obnoxiously, dropping onto it like a stone._

_And it didn't stop there. "Katherine. You listen to me right now. You're a beautiful young lady and that boy, he didn't deserve you anyway. Now that he's dumb enough to think he can do better than you, you'll be fighting boys off with a stick."_

_A thin, teary voice warbled, "I don't want any other boys. I thought he was the one."_

_Steve cracked one eye open. A mess of auburn curls bobbed in front of him, weeping - the wronged party, he concluded - and a girl with sunny blonde hair had her arm curled protectively around her._

_Steve chewed his lip. As charitable a spirit he was, tonight wasn't the night. He glanced around the rest of the car. How did all the other seats fill up so quickly? He could've sworn that the place had been near empty when he got on._

_With resignation, he slouched even further, hoping pathetically he could tune out the soap opera in front of him._

_"I was a fool, wasn't I?" Her voice broke on that last word and Steve cringed. The dilapidated doors of the train car slid shut, sealing his fate, and the wheels rumbled to life._

_"Oh, honey," her friend's voice turned gentle, still audible over the thunder of the railway, "you didn't do nothing wrong! He doesn't know what's good for him, that's all."_

_The muffled sobs rose in pitch as the dame wept pitifully. Steve kept his eyes shut tightly, wishing fervently that somehow this next stop would be theirs. Or his. Jesus, he'd walk home from midtown if it meant he could escape._

_The idea was squashed before it could even fully take shape, to his chagrin. Steve hadn't been mugged in just over a month. Even he wasn't reckless enough to tempt fate at midnight on a Saturday._

_"I just don't understand. I did everything right, I thought? I didn't cling. Didn't pester or whine or nothing, Molly, hand to God I learned my lesson. What did I do?"_

_Steve didn't need to see her face to sense how distraught she was, and although he was bone-tired, he was a moment away from tapping on the gal's shoulder and talking some sense into her - no man was worth her tears, he's the fool for letting a catch like her slip through his fingers, et cetera - when her friend dropped a literal bomb. "That boy is trouble, Katherine, I said it from the beginning. Bucky Barnes has been breaking hearts since I was in grammar school."_

_Steve paused, frowning. Bucky? His...Bucky? Carefully he opened his eyes into narrow slits, trying to catch a glimpse of either of the girls, but nothing could be gleaned from the backs of their heads. Bucky hadn’t talked much about the ladies he’d been seeing lately, which usually meant there were more than one._

_"He's something else, all right. First time I ever laid eyes on him he was working down at the docks, hauling crates like nobody's business-" and a little pit lodged itself in Steve's stomach, how many Bucky's could there have been, anyway? "And Lord have mercy, if he wasn't the finest-looking man for miles around. Those arms, I tell you, made me weak in the knees. I was dizzy with him from the moment I saw him."_

_His mind's eye painted the scene, clear as a bell, behind his eyelids. The relentless August sun beating down over the harbor, hotter than the gates of hell. Bucky would've taken off his shirt after lunch, since he'd always said if he didn't, he'd just be broiling in his own juices. "Like a Christmas ham," he'd say, and wink. Steve would shove him and make a face, tell him the last thing he wanted to think about was him all trussed up-_

_He swallowed hard. Took a few deep breaths._

_"Those muscles. Like something out of a Greek legend." Her voice took a wistful, faraway tone. "And that face.”_

_Steve’s muscles tensed. His face, indeed. It was the last thing he saw before he fell asleep and the first thing he laid eyes on in the morning-_

_“He has this...way about him, when we were together. I'm not totally naive, I know he's been with enough women to fill the Dodgers stadium, but when he looked at me, and held my hand...it was as if I was the only one in the world.”_

_“Well, at least you didn’t go all the way with him,” her friend assured her._

_Steve heard nothing for several long moments. “Katherine? Right?” Silence. “Katherine!” There was no mistaking the plain disapproval in her voice._

_“Who are you, my mother? I’ve confessed it to Father O’Rourke, so lay off.”_

_Her friend asked dryly, "How many Our Fathers you think he's worth?"_

_In a whoosh, everything seemed to come pouring out at once. "More than I can say in a lifetime, I can't lie. His eyes, it's like they were burning right through me. He’d undress me, slow, like there was nothing he’d rather be doing than taking my slip off, you know?” She sighed, suddenly wistful. “He really knew his way around the world, if you know what I mean. Loved to kiss me, always had his lips on my neck or my shoulders or, well. My bosoms."_

_Steve felt his cheeks begin to heat up as she continued. "Oh, Lord save me, that boy's mouth. Sin, pure sin." Do people blush in their sleep? he wondered frantically. Guilt crept up on him for listening to a conversation that was clearly not meant for his ears - his mother would be livid, God rest her soul. He realized his heart was pounding a steady drumroll in his chest. Not in fear...anticipation._

_“Did he ever...put his mouth...on you...there?” her friend timidly inquired._

_“Did he? Oh, did he ever. He loved it more than I did, I think. He’d use his tongue on me for hours, and when I couldn’t take any more he would get his, you know? He liked to put me on top of him and play with my tits, or curl up behind me and take me that way.”_

_Was he sweating? The train car wasn’t nearly this stuffy when he’d gotten on._

_“Some boys,” she continued, “they’re content to satisfy themselves and leave you high and dry. Bucky, though, it seems like he enjoyed giving just as much as he did receiving-”_

_Steve lurched forward abruptly as the train came to a rough stop. Wide-eyed, disoriented and sporting a painful hard-on, he leapt to his feet and made a beeline for the door. Didn’t dare look back, just kept his eyes forward and booked it the entire eleven blocks to their apartment._

_The door slammed behind him, harsher than he’d intended. A pair of icy blue eyes burned into him from their threadbare couch. Steve didn’t stop, couldn’t do more than mutter a “hey” as he disappeared into their shared bedroom. Only when he felt the scratchy clapboard against his spine, putting at least a couple inches between him and the rest of the world, did he let himself breathe._

_The next morning found Steve with a sticky mess in the front of his shorts and more questions than answers._

***

Here is something that Steve knows.

Sometimes, when the bone-deep winter chill creeps through their walls, seeping through their paltry blankets, he and Bucky would squeeze themselves into one of their beds. It was nothing new; they’d done it since they were kids.

It wasn’t until he’d overheard a fellow at the market, buying milk right next to where Steve was deciding between two loaves of rye. “Ain’t right, two men sharin’ a bunk. I don’t care if my dick was ‘bout to freeze off. That shit’s for queers,” the burly man declared to his companion, who nodded in agreement.

Steve had nearly frozen himself, ears burning with untold shame. He’d never allowed himself to think on it too much, the idea that what came so naturally could be looked on as deviant. If he woke up sometimes spooned up against Bucky’s hard chest, one arm wrapped protectively around his fragile ribs, what of it? If maybe there were mornings that he pretended to be asleep so he could stay safely cocooned away from the world just a little longer, who’d judge him?

Steve never breathed a word to Bucky about that day; and the next time he awoke in the perfect furnace of his best friend’s arms, Steve held on just a little tighter.

***

"We need to talk."

With a forearm thrown carelessly over his eyes, Bucky snapped, "Didn’t your ma ever teach you it ain’t nice to kiss and tell?”

Steve couldn't help it, he recoiled a bit, stung. “Bucky,” he admonished. 

A beat passed. “Sorry.” 

“This ain’t no back-alley scrape, Steve. Stop getting all riled up like you’re rarin’ for a fight.”  

But he was, that’s what Bucky didn’t get. All this energy and desire and need coursing through his veins and nowhere to unleash it. Steve had given himself away, far more than he can comfortably write off as a misunderstanding. But, if he’s being honest with himself, he passed that point a long time ago. 

In a low voice, he forced out the words, “You wanna go back to how things were? Pretend like none of this ever happened?”

“We never even laid a finger on each other,” Bucky protested, albeit weakly. 

Steve’s voice was barely a whisper. “We didn’t need to.” He let it hang there while he studied the delicate lacework of tendons through the back of his artist’s hands. Hands that had held warm, willing flesh, soft where he wished it had been firm, and _god_ once those floodgates opened he knew they’d never shut again, not really.

Suddenly, Bucky’s fists balled up and his chest began to heave with heavy, fuming huffs. “What would be the point, Steve? Think about it for a minute. Please.” The smaller man revisited Bucky’s earlier reminder that not everything was a battle, and thought to himself that it wouldn’t be the first time he’d brought a stick to a gunfight.

A tired hand scrubbed over the handsome visage of Bucky’s face. “Look. I know you think I’m just bein’ difficult. Not for nothin’ either, pal, but now you know what it’s like to be friends with you.” A quick smirk flashed across his lips before swiftly fading. Steve snorted his reluctant agreement. 

“I never meant...it wasn’t what I’d intended, okay? I thought I was doin’ you a favor.” 

Steve’s eyebrows shot up. 

"Don't you give me that look, you bastard, you know what I mean. Fuck." Frustrated and quickly losing patience (although whether it was with himself or Steve he couldn't be sure), Bucky snapped to his feet and took several long, aimless steps around the tiny room. Stringy locks of hair bobbed around his face as he ran his slender fingers through it. 

Fingers. Hot and firm, wrapped around the base of-

Steve swallowed hard and forced his eyes to the floor. A sickening mix of shame and burning lust rolled through his gut.

"Let me explain. I never looked at you that way, Steve, not once.” Steve’s heart dropped like a stone; he bravely swallowed the inevitable pit of disappointment that sank into his belly. He nodded his understanding.

“I couldn’t. Because if I did...there’d be no going back. Ever. I let myself want you...it’d swallow me whole. I thought...I hoped...if you liked makin’ time with dames as much as I did, well. I never was the brains of this operation,” he stammered, smiling ruefully. Bucky shifted so the hard lines of his shoulders, broad where Steve’s were narrow, were towering over him. The full force of that white-hot, thousand-yard stare was aimed at him now, and he felt naked as the day he was born. 

Bucky, who knew him, really _knew_ down to the marrow in his bones. Steve had believed there was nothing he could hide from him. But judging from the stricken curve of his brows, the way he ruthlessly chewed his lip, Steve had buried this one so deep not even he himself could've unearthed it.

A tender part of Steve ached for him, at the anguish in his best friend’s eyes. He’d carry this for the both of them. He could do that much. 

“We can put it behind us,” he said slowly. “I’m sorry. That I made it into something it...wasn’t.” He tried to stave off the bitterness in his voice but it tinged the edges anyway.

He never was much good at lying.

“Just say the word, Buck, and I’ll let it go.” It’ll kill him, but he’d do it, just like he’d do anything at all that James Barnes would ask of him.

Bucky dropped to his knees then, crowding Steve, inching closer until their noses brushed against each other. “You want me?” he whispered brokenly.

Steve took Bucky’s face into his hands, rubbing the pads of his thumbs over the cut of his best friend’s cheekbones. So beautiful. “Since before I knew how.”

Their lips crashed together, clumsy and desperate, nipping and teasing and exploring as the rest of the world fell away in a blur. Steve knocked his teeth against Buck’s and whacked him with his crooked beak more than once. It was the best.

Bucky dropped his weight to his knees on either side of Steve’s lap and let out an embarrassing whine when Steve’s teeth caught his bottom lip. Bucky grinned, eyes still screwed shut, and breathed, “Don’t make me say it, Rogers.”

Steve pulled back then, _oh hell no_ written all over his lovestruck face. “Say it, Barnes. I dare you.”

The piercing blue of his eyes, nearly obliterated by the black abyss in their centers, took on that trademark Bucky shine. “Been holding out on me, baby?” he taunted, somewhat theatrically, even as the fly of his trousers tented out dangerously far.

Fevered and tingly with anticipation, Steve brazenly cupped him through his pants. “You have no idea.”

Bucky very nearly growled as he abruptly grabbed Steve around his slender waist. He twisted them so suddenly Steve sat astride his hips, Bucky lying flat on his back. There was absolutely no mistaking the rigid line of his cock pushing up against his own, hard and insistent.

Steve rolled his hips experimentally and his eyes fluttered at the wave of pleasure that coursed through him.

“Stevie. I can’t...I can’t wait,” Bucky pleaded. Fingertips dug soft furrows into the scant meat of his belly. “Please. We can take our time later.”

_Later._ A huge and giddy feeling rose up in Steve’s chest. There would be a _later_ , and many more after that.

“Yeah. Yeah, Buck, anything you want,” he agreed easily. “But...uh. How do we do this? I never...with a man.” Figures - he lost his virginity today but yet again, he's completely clueless. 

Bucky’s face clouded some as he contemplated Steve’s confusion. “Oh. Right. Well, maybe we should save that...I mean, _that_ \- for another time.”

Steve nodded his assent, relieved. Especially given he wasn't even sure about the mechanics of how two fellas make it with each other. The who-does-what and what-goes-where...

"I got an idea, though." 

And that's how Steve found himself naked, carefully hovering astride Bucky's face, leaning down to where Bucky's erection bobbed in the cool air. Bucky hadn't had to do much explaining, just rearrange limbs and strip off clothing. 

To say he didn’t know what he was doing was the least of it, but Steve was a fast learner, he caught on quick. He started out with small, lewd swipes of his tongue along the hot length, then moved on to wetly sucking just the tip between his lips. Bucky moaned his encouragement along the way.

“Who knew you were such a fucking tease, Rogers?” he breathed. Steve grinned to himself, then proceeded to suck down Bucky’s cock until it hit the back of his throat.

The wail that followed was a sound Steve would treasure for the rest of his days. Fast learner, indeed.

Meanwhile, as Steve took his best friend apart piece by piece, Bucky wrapped one hand around the base of Steve’s dick and pumped tentatively. It was deliciously distracting having Steve’s lips working magic on him, but he was determined not to slack off. He wet his mouth and started out like he would a kiss - first his lips, then a little tongue, then a lot. Above him, Steve was panting and groaning obscenely.

It wasn’t long before the two were fucking openly into each other’s mouths, brazen and filthy. Their thrusts became steadily more erratic the closer they edged to the peak.

Bucky blew first. With only a strangled cry for warning, Steve was met with spurt upon spurt of Bucky's seed flooding his mouth, salty and hot on his tongue. At the same moment Bucky sank Steve’s cock down to the hilt, tongue laving over the sensitive underside, and Steve returned the favor less than a few seconds after. Bucky sputtered a bit at the taste, but it didn’t stop him from swallowing every last drop.

Boneless and spent, Steve finally crawled up and fitted himself into Bucky’s side on their narrow sofa. “Y’know,” Steve mused as he stretched lazily, “you were pretty good. For a first-timer and all.”

Bucky socked him in the arm, then tugged him closer.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Come play with me on tumblr (we-dont-need-pants)!


End file.
